Voices Of the Long Dead
by SaintTuesday
Summary: What if, when Yuugi won the final duel, it was only Yami that went through? What if, there was someone else, trapped and invisible, trying to look after his silly… little… hikari?


**AN: Hello all, Saint here. I'm a bit late to the Yu-Gi-Oh! scene I'll admit, fanfiction-wise anyway. But I really like the series so I'll be contributing for a while, at least. Enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, whether it's the 4kids version, the original or even the abridged. I barely even own the idea behind this fic, but whatever.**

"speaking outloud"  
>*sound*<em><br>_ -_what a person is reading._

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><p><em>"Supposedly, all the spirits in the artifacts went to the afterlife when I won the final duel and their powers; both good and bad, went with them. We hadn't really had time to discuss the specifics of things at the time anyway. Nobody really questioned the idea, the main person we were going to miss had finally been laid to rest, we could get on with our lives as best we could. Perhaps we should have thought about things a bit more carefully. Then maybe the things that happened next wouldn't have come as such a shock."<br>~ From 'Being Aibou- the last duel and beyond' Epilogue._

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><p><span>The Beginning of the Next <span>

"You can't see me anymore. But I'm right here.

Sometimes I think you know I'm not gone. You'll be doing something innocuous, like emptying your dishwasher and suddenly you'll stop your tuneful humming to freeze. You look up slowly every time, eyes staring into every corner of the room, until they finally rest on my spot where I'm leaning invisibly on the counter. Like you felt my presence, or noticed my unwavering stare making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You stand, frozen, half-way through doing something, staring at me or near enough for sometimes hours, maybe minutes. Then, abruptly you shiver, and it breaks the spell and you glance at the time asking how'd it get so late? And you're free, brushing me off as a figment of your over active imagination.

That was only yesterday.

When it gets too odd, or I stare too much, you get just that little bit too far into seeing someone who shouldn't be there and you call the small being I used to hate. He never brushes you off, listening to all you fears and your paranoia for hours until you're spent and depending on how scared you are; one of three things will happen.

One, it's not too bad; a phone call to someone who still turns around to speak to someone who's no longer there, mutters to himself because he keeps expecting someone to talk back and admits to his friends he misses the feeling of someone in his soul is comforting enough on its own. You smile and talk about normal things before hanging up. I pity that boy Hikari, I really do. To depend_l__oveneedwantcare_ on someone that much? He was setting himself up to get hurt and you can only ever truly depend on yourself anyway. Even you know that.

Two, the midget will somehow magically sense your thrice-damned fear of a spectre that shouldn't even _B__E_ here; before casually asking you over slash out so you can forget about it. You then have two choices, to meet up with everyone and fall into another one of your _bloody _little adventures or to meet up with just Yuugi and try to ignore it.  
>Lately it's been just you and Yuugi more than all of you at once. You keep saying you don't want to drag everyone out over your own problems, but Yuugi doesn't seem to mind.<br>But this is happening more and more frequently these days and a small part of me agrees with your theory about this being an early warning for you all: my presence gets stronger, therefore something is waiting to happen. And I know how much you hate being right about these things little Hikari. The Pharaoh (ammit-devour-his-soul) isn't around to protect your little group anymore Hikari, and it's leaving you all far to vulnerable to an attack from the shadows.

If it's three; that means by some miracle he is busy/not answering, or you've waved away his invitation with a laughed excuse and you haven't gone anywhere. I like these times the best. You stand there holding the phone for a short while before with cracking voice and trembling with dread, you call my name.

"-? Are you there?" *a harsh, embittered laugh*

I try to answer, I try and I try, originally to taunt you I'll admit, but more recently it's just so you'll hear me. Being this bizarre form of dead the shadows can find me to taunt me with their plans, for a short while I can see some of the future and I wish I could tell you of the things I see next. It's not to help you, you understand. It's more like a latent instinct tells me if I don't try and tell you or I stop following for too long, the bit of you that supports me will fade and I'll disappear.  
>Forever.<br>So I try to tell you, tell you to look after Mokuba before some lunatic kidnaps him and ransom him for a ridiculous amount of money. Or to ring that irritating family of keepers in Egypt because one of them is going to get hurt if he continues doing what he is, despite the fact if I wasn't just a shadow I'd do it to them myself and most likely laugh manically about it later. But you don't listen, so they do and he does and as I watch you scramble to save the world with friends and a magic card game without me being your unlikely safety net. Though I know you never thought of me that way. (And just who do you think kept you out of the shadow realm when you lost a duel, or got you out of those tight corners you practically made a hobby of painting yourself into?)

You keep calling though; waiting, straining to hear me, and eventually you lose it. Screaming and crying till your voice is hoarse, in a way I could never draw from you before, even when I was physically there. You throw things from one room to another, begging me to leave you alone. Asking me why do I still follow you? Why can't I leave you be? Haven't I ruined your life enough? And why, why won't I answer- answer you please? Even if it's only to persuade you it's just your imagination.  
>It's times like this I learn what guilt feels like. And I hate it.<p>

You collapse in front of the cabinets in the kitchen this time. Last time it was the hall, and the time before was your room. Both times you sat there, waiting for hours on end for something, anything. What you're waiting for I do not know, and that irks me little Hikari. To not know what it is your waiting for, to not know what your _thinking._ I thought would be a relief from the constant noise of your head, but now I'd do anything to get rid of this infernal quiet. The first time you collapsed to the floor the others came over to take you out quite by chance, appearing behind the front door to unknowingly sweep you away from your misery and me. The second time you dragged yourself to bed, pretending to sleep while remaining tense and awake for a long time afterwards.

Your head is in your hands now little Hikari, like you're protecting yourself from the world there on the floor. You look so sad and alone down there. Once upon a time I would have laughed at this sight, would have tormented you from within to satisfy my own bizarre form of craving, hiding my jealousy and pain.  
>Once, but not anymore. I tried to, in the beginning of this eternal torment of watching you. I'm not very proud of that. Does that please you little Hikari? Does it please you to know the big bad dark isn't so dark anymore? Or do you just feel pity knowing I will never be happy without what you have. I know that now, but I lost my chance to have it the first time I died. I think less of myself these days; endless following does that to a person. You realise that you were never the centre of even your own universe, something or someone else always was. I used to think I knew what mine was.<br>Used to.

I tire of my endless standing over you, and that is why I sit next to you. My feet to your hips while my coat drags to settle over the floor and your bare feet. Not because I feel sorry for your pain, pain is what makes us human and we're all the stronger for feeling it. You never really understood that. It's certainly not guilt that makes my arms wrap around your shoulders as you cry, it's because I don't want to feel this endless _cold_ anymore.  
>And you, little Hikari, are everything but cold.<br>I feel nothing in this state, not the cold of winter or the warmth of my own skin in the sun. Not a gasp of wind ever ruffles my hair nor can I taste even trickle of water to wet my tongue, I cannot smell, taste or touch anything no matter what I try. I can hear everything and see all that you do, but I cannot influence it. This, I am certain, is my own hell, one I forged with my own two hands in the Duat and it shall be everlasting.

I do not need to breathe but I sigh when I watch you struggle day to day. You're too kind little Hikari, even to those who do not deserve it. And as my arms settle on your shoulders, your head next to my own, I am for the first time in a long time surprised. I feel your heartbeat and the texture of your clothes under my fingers, smell your obscenely floral shampoo in your hair, hear your breath in my ear and as your sobs subside I feel something stealing its way into my chest...

I finally feel the warmth of life. It is not a feeling I will let go of easily."

Crackles and pops of sound distortion through expensive speakers are the only sound heard in the silent office. A pale hand reaches over in the gloom to read the decoded words of the document that came with the sound file.

_'-The tape ends there Mr Kaiba. She collapsed straight after, only coming round when her younger brother had laid her in bed some hours later. She says to take heed, the worse is yet to come. The eldest sibling then escorted us from the building and said to tell you they would see you at the New years celebration. I've noted your decision to not tell the other parties, and will avoid all contact if at all possible. Will maintain s__urveillance in egypt with utmost secrecy. Over and out. Your faithful servant-'_

A young man leans back into his expensive office chair with a sigh, taps his mouse in an odd rhythm as he thinks over the information just gained.  
>And frowns.<p>

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><p><strong>What is this? I have no idea. It started off as a simple guilty Bakura fic then somehow transmogrified into this...thing. Whoops. The characters have other ideas apparently.<strong>

**Saint, over and out.**


End file.
